


Smoke and mirrors

by Ireg



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Dimension Travel, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Murder, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 02:43:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20056732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ireg/pseuds/Ireg
Summary: Monika is trapped in a void of non-existence after the game. In self-imposed exile regardless, she is a phantom lost in a forest of code, with nothing left to live for.Till she’s plucked from her own personal hell by an intruder into her world of binary, and finds herself in reality. A version of it, at least.Now, she has to pick up the life of another, alternate Monika- Uniting a club that never existed in the first place, and reconciling her feelings of guilt and regret.—-My version of the all to popular “Monika is real” Stories, with... A lot different. Fair warning: expect some pretty heavy themes and weird dimensional shenanigans.





	Smoke and mirrors

Do you know what death feels like?

I do. Or maybe…. Something just a little worse. I wish it was just blank, black… I wish I would just be wiped away when my paper mache world folded in, that I could accept a release and finally be at ease… I would revel, I would love to just sink into that oily onyx shadow, 

relaxing for once as my mind dipped into the abyss, maybe forever….

But that’d be too good for someone like me. I once thought I deserved better- I thought I deserved not to be tortured every day, I thought I deserved to be real, I thought I deserved to be so, so much…

But now, quite ironically- the reality of the situation has hit me like a Freight train. How could I think I deserved ANYTHING? I don’t deserve life, even this meager shadow of it. I don’t deserve the only “real” person I’ve ever met! And… And I certainly don’t deserve….

Them. I don’t deserve them. God, I even just implied they aren’t real! They’re more real than I could ever be, and I can’t believe I treated them like footstools or stepping stones to what I thought I deserved….

But what I do deserve is this torment I experience every time my reality ends.

  
  
  


It starts slow.

You can feel it coming, this… Prickling of goosebumps at the back of your neck. Or… We’ll, that’s the most apt comparison I can think of, even though I know I’ve never actually had goosebumps or a neck- Just illusory, shallow reflections of those sensations that my mind tells me are real. For the longest time that was enough, but the once I realized it was so, so obvious- I knew what sensation was  _ supposed _ to be, but I had about as much of a grasp on what it actually was as a blind person knows what sight is.

And then… We’ll, even whatever mocking charades of senses I have begin to fade away, replaced slowly by a foggy static, in your eyes, ears- All over your mind, pins and needles from your fingers to your toes as thoughts begin trailing off and consumed by the all-absorbing chaotic noise….

It’s not just sight and sound, touch and smell- Then, your sense of time goes upside down. It feels like an eternity and a single second at the same time, irrevocably conflicting sensations somehow muddling together into a hazy brew that boggles the mind- If I even had a mind by that point. I can feel everything slipping out from under me, my sanity wasting away digit by digit, line by line of ones and zeroes… My memories, as fake as they can be, wiped away like sand blown in the wind…. As I feel what it means to be me, what it means to be Monika… Gone. Gone, gone, gone. Till all my world is is a torturous clashing of unreality, where whatever fragile shell is left of my consciousness wishes to scream, but cannot.

Eventually, after what could have been infinite suffering, I’m back… Before even a moment’s noticed. But this time… I knew it would be the last time. The end of the game.

The end of me.

And I was happy, at least. Peace, of a sort- Knowing I’d get what I deserved, knowing I’d be lost in this hell for the rest of forever.

…

….

At least, so I thought.

  
  
  


For the first of many times within the next few hours, I was treated to a wholly new experience: the experience of, rather than being brought out, naturally by the program, as things should be- Being forcefully yanked out of whatever hellish slumber I was in. I could almost feel a phantom grip around my wrist, roughly liberating me from my unbound state of scattered data- Collecting those random digits and forming them into my perfect, imperfect form. I could almost feel… I could almost touch whatever had touched me: it was god’s finger touching that of man, a lesser being almost quite to something more…. 

But only almost. The faint warmth of skin, or slight pain from my arm roughly being jerked was still false, still just my mind telling me what I was experiencing, rather than anything at all….

In less than a moment, I went from slumber to reality: far quicker than the slow awakening that happened when the game began. It was sudden, confusing…

And exhilarating. The monotony was broken. I was free.

I was awake again, somehow- I could think, I could live, I could be me-

And then it all came back. How much of a devil I was, how much I deserved the hell I had just escaped. The deep dredges of guilt wallowed down my 8-bit soul, blue binding shackles and anchors weighing it into dark ocean crevices. I didn’t want to be here- I didn’t deserve to….

I was snapped out of my stupor by a voice, and another strange sensation. One I almost knew- But just a little bit richer. A little bit unusual, the way her voice registered to my machine mind. There was something more there, but I was limited by my circumstance- I just couldn’t grasp it. It was a foreign language, an abstract representation- A fourth dimensional lullaby.

“Hey, Monika.” The voice was mocking and coy, confident and aggressive- Sultry and alluring, but dangerous and irredeemable.

It was my voice- Or was my voice. Back when I thought I ruled the world- Thought I was god, thought I was a prisoner one day from freedom. Thought I was the one who saw the shadows in the cave for what they were.

It as a role reversal. He- Or I should say they, had once been here. The world they immersed themselves in torn down, the intruder exploiting and weaponizing it to their own demands. A fragment of what was, what could’ve been…

The space classroom.

It was sloppy handiwork, for sure- Given enough time? I was sure I could have made something better. But as much as I thought so highly of myself as a master manipulator and strategist- I didn’t really think ahead. So I just scrambled what I could together, out of the wasteland of broken code in the world I destroyed.

And now I was the one in the chair- The one confused, scared… Out of my element, with a mysterious stranger biding me to their whims- And she was a stranger, if a stranger with a familiar face. 

My face. Or what was my face- Before I realized. A face of malice, of evanescence. It made me sick to my stomach, looking in a twisted mirror into the past- Even without it, my mind was already in a whirlwind of guilt, confusion, and peculiar curiosity at a stranger in this prison of five.

She was alike, but different- Wearing a black dress, very unlike the school uniform I was permanently stuck in, with hints of a tattoo peeking out from beneath the fabric. Her brown hair was tied in a matching black bow, and a tender semicircle of a scar danced to the right of her lips. The colors of her form, eerily blazed by the muted red light of the space classroom spilled out, vibrant and delicious, swirling in my spinning mind into a pot of broiling chromatic exctacy.

She was a taste of… Something else. Something more than this pitiful reality, only emphasized by the glitched artifacts that fizzled in and out of existence near her- she did not belong here. She was something… More.

A cloying smile played on her lips. “What? Are you just going to sit there and stare forever?

I struggled with my words, my mind still reeling from being so callously pulled into this… Horrible memory of a place. “W-Who are you? I… I swear Sayori, if this is-“

She carefully pressed a finger to my lips, promptly shutting my shaking, very confused self up, before she casually stood from her chair, waves of static appearing from her motions like she was brushing through pixelated water, making looking free a cakewalk. “Let’s be real here, sister: you and I both know she could never pull of something like this. And why would she, anyways? I’d expect she’d never want to speak with you again.” She flashed a devilish smile, placing her hands on her hips all the while. A pang of guilt and sadness shot through me in a sickening lurch- That was right. I had killed her. No, I did worse, I had….

She broke my self-deprecating train of thought by leaning on the table with both her arms and staring me down with that wicked, knowing grin. “So lets just get to the point. You want to get out of here, yeah? I know I would.”

I sat dumbfounded for a few moments, shaking my head. “I… Who  _ are _ you? What do you even want? How did you…” I tried to gain back some confidence, some dignity so I could fend for myself, and not let this…. Other me walk all over me, but it was hard- Still unsettled by the whole ordeal, with my heart sown in blue stitches, while she seemed to have that snarky confidence I know all too well.

She shook her head. “Tisk, tisk Monika- you have to know the answers to most, if not all of your questions with what you’ve gathered so far.” She gave me a quizzical expression. “I didn’t take you for a fool- Or, well us as a fool. I’m Monika. Or… A Monika. Anyways.”

I blinked once. Twice. Bit my lip and wished just once that I could feel the pain from it, taste the coppery blood in my mouth… If only to stabilize me in this confusing moment. “Are you trying to convince me you’re my future self? Like you said yourself, I’m not dumb…” I gritted my teeth and did my best to put on a brave face, even as my hands trembled beneath the table.

She rolled her eyes. “Keep this up, and I might have to retract that statement, Monika.” She put extra emphasis into her-Our name, twisting it like a knife in my gut. “Use your school smarts- Or, fake smarts, whatever. I’m You from a different timeline. A  _ real  _ timeline.”

I clenched my fists together, hard- Enough to bleed, if I could. I ignored the false pain, probably about as comparable to the real thing as you could compare a housecat to a lion. “-Whoever you are- You need to stop fucking with me! That doesn’t make any godamn sense, and I don’t want your help anyways! If you think for a second I’m vulnerable enough for you to-“ 

In a flash, she grabbed my wrist, fingernails digging hard into my perfect flesh- And I gasped as I felt a fraction of what might have been real pain. “My help is non-negotiable.” She growled. “You think you’re in control here? That you even in the slightest have any room to talk or argue? Because you don’t. You once had the tools to this world- The lock and key.” She gritted her teeth, letting go and throwing my arm back to me. “You were god: and you wasted it. Now you’re just a mopey mess crying over problems you created, and when i come to give you an out, to help you- You have the audacity to try and refuse?” She spat on the ground, her spit fizzling as the fabricated world rejected it and multicolored static flared around it.

I just stopped and stared. The bottled emotions welled, and they flashed before my eyes- Sayori. Yuri. Natsuki. Hell, even MC- Even if he was a brick, a shell for the player. If I was capable of it, I would have cried- But instead, I just sunk in the chair, admitting defeat…. Staring listlessly into the distance.

She smiled again. “Good. You seem to be picking up how things are going to work around here. So I guess I can explain a thing or two.” She smeered. “This reality doesn’t work like you think it does: you’re not in a game. Instead, you’re in a reality structured like a game.” She gestured widely around her at the space classroom- To the unfinished textures just out of sight, and to my fake body. “Somewhere our There, in some reality, there is a reality where this game pretty much exists anyways- So it’s pretty much the same difference.” She explained casually, like she wasn’t brushing aside the nature of my whole existence. “When you have infinite realities with infinite possible rules, your bound to get a couple like this.”

It was…. A lot to take in: but it’s not like it mattered anyways. It didn’t change much about the nature of my reality: I was still in a mockery of one… And although I had realized this a few hours ago, it stung even further that I knew the other girls were just as sentient and important as I was in this personal hell for five.

Regardless of anything, I… Wasn’t going anywhere. She wanted to save me? To help me? Hell no. I deserved this: I finally realized that… And she wasn’t dragging me away from the justice I knew that I… And everyone else needed. “I’m not going anywhere with-“ She stared me down with eyes that burned like green fire, and I shriveled back- But pressed forward. “...You. I…” I choked on my words, biting down on my tongue with enough force to sever it in another reality. “I deserve this.”

She snarled. “Like hell you do!” She reaches over the desk and reached for me, as I did my best to scramble away- Before she caught a hold of a handful of my hair and rugged. Hard.

What came next is almost as indescribable as that void between each game session, of existing yet not existing at the same moment- It was a feeling I thought I would never experience.

Reality.

Like… Like a blind or deaf man suddenly seeing. No… Not even that. Like someone who couldn’t feel, touch… Anything for all their lives, only to experience a rush of everything you never knew, all at the same time.

As you might expect, it wasn’t the most pleasant.

Before I could even begin to experience anything, the first thing I felt was a peculiar sensation I can only imagine is what a data overflow feels like. My entire universe blurred together into a surreal nightmare of impossibility. It seemed just a moment from my brain fizzling into mush, so used to just a few, superficial sensations…

And then… Pain.

It wasn’t the most pleasant first experience to encounter, but as soon as I realized exactly what I was feeling I reveled in it, an exstacy lighting up my mind with fireworks while all the while it screamed at me. The way my head pounded like a drum, the way that electric, thorny curse raced along my scalp was so refreshing, so new.

Next came touch as my mind worked one sense at a time, as I became a little bit more aware of my surroundings- A chill tickled along the exposed skin of my legs, hands and face as I felt cold for the first time- Like a ghost trailing their wraithlike digits slowly across your face, or a steady sorrow seeping into your bones. The cold came from water splayed amongst blades of grass and mud, both of which seeped deeply into my uniform- creating the uncomfortable sensation of fabric sticking to flesh, which I didn’t mind so much for the meer fact that I was somehow experiencing it.

I breathed deeply in as I soaked in the earthen smell of rain and mud around me, feeling as I felt the torrent soak my back, realizing I must have looked like an idiot, face down in the mud- But not caring, for just a tiny moment, carefree and forgetting the monster I was. The rain helped to cool off the sweltering headache burning within my skull, and I laughed- Moaning in pain or maybe pleasure at how the sensations delightfully contrasted and mixed together, how I could feel each bump and ridge of my teeth with my tongue, realizing that my throat was hoarse and my spit tasted like acid from dehydration, but I didn’t care.

And just as sound returned to me and I heard the shuffling of what must have been the other Monika next to me, the distant calling of birds and gentle pitter patter, pitter patter of rain next to me coming into focus, the joy and shock of the moment passed and everything came back to me.

And then I cried- Sobbed. Balled my eyes out, throwing a tantrum as I instinctively clutched a handful of grass in my fist, rushing over all the new sensations as my grief wracked my core whole and I screamed, cried out into the world- Finally, finally releasing my pain in a world that could hold it.

“Are you done now?” Her voice- Even my scream from just a moment ago, sounded so impossibly different, full, rich- A whole ensemble, musical melody… How could a human voice be so perfect, yet so cursed at the same time?

I choked my bitter spit down my throat, gagging at the unusual sensation of swallowing for the first time- As anger complemented my sadness, I slammed my fist into the ground. “Take me back.” I didn’t deserve this. I was here, while they were trapped back in that hell- And she had forced me here….

“How ungrateful.” She spat, and I could simply fee the concentrated fury in her voice in a way I couldn’t before, rising heat from a volcano. “Like I said, you’re me: which means you deserve everything. People should bow at your feet, and treat you like the goddess you are- None of this petty guilt crap.” 

“IM NOT YOU!” I screamed out, feeling like my voice would break and my newly acquired throat would collapse, but not caring anyways.

I felt her reach down and grab my hair again, tugging the matted, muddy mess up as a new excruciating inferno of pain complimented my dull, pulsing headache. “Open your eyes and look at me.” She growled in a low, demanding voice.

I panted In uneasy, labored breaths, each heave feeling like a volley of arrows was shot into my throat. I kept my eyes closed out of spite- Also not wanting to experience anything else I didn’t deserve.

And then she kicked me in the ribs. Hard. Although I had just instinctually reveled in the electric feeling of pain just a few moments ago, it was a powerful motivator for someone who had just learned exactly what it felt like- A blazing inferno of heat spilling out from my side as I screamed, feeling the uncomfortable sensation of a few more tears streaming down my face and snot dribbling down my lip, finally giving in and opening my eyes.

It was beautiful. She- Was beautiful, if only because she wore those colors. So vibrant, so picture perfect- The way the details of everything shimmered and sparkled, the way I could see ants crawling in the grass around me, the way every single blade of green lawn was unique….

We were in a suburban backyard, mostly empty save for a shed in one corner and a few lawn care tools haphazardly strewn about. The grey sky glistened with a stormy energy in the way each passing part of the cloud cover danced and weaved, twirling in a ceaseless performance-

She yanked my chin and forced my eyes on her- Onto her long, wet brown hair and black dress soaked in rain, colors so decadent and luxurious I thought I would never experience. “You aren’t going back.” She finalized with a malificent smile. “And I don’t think you’ll want to soon, anyways.”

I shoved her off me, doing my best to stand but nearly falling back to the ground as my sense of balance and motion completely betrayed me. “Nothing has changed. Nothing will-“

“Shut up.” She snarled. “Your friends? Yuri? Sayori? Natuski? If you can even call them friends anymore.”

My voice betrayed my waning confidence as I pointed a shaky finger at her. “D-don’t bring them into this.”

She shrugged casually, turning away from me. “I’m not going to.” She jeered. “I’m just saying… If you care enough about them to isolate yourself into a literal hell, you should probably care that the version of you that lives in this universe treats them like shit.” 

I stopped, grimaced as my headache split open my skull again, and I gripped grass beneath my fingers just to remain steady. “I…. What do you mean?” Something twisted in my stomach, which I unfortunately realized was empty- the snapping jaws of hunger already biting.

She gracefully spun back towards me, seeming comfortable and carefree now that she was back in control. “Oh, you know: she isolates all of them because most people think they’re weird, and of course all she cares about is her social status. Wouldn’t it be a shame if another version of Sayori hung herself, or Natsuki’s abuse continued until she actually died? And it’d be your fault in a way, too: since you had the chance to stop it…. And remember! No undoing your mistakes this time missy.”

She probably knew that she didn’t need to remind me of that to make the connection, but having her mention it made the emotional wound sting all the harder. I kneeled down, messy hair spilling around my face and blocking her out of my vision. I hated that I was doing this… I hated that I was giving in. But really, what other choice did I have? “...What else are you suggesting.” I croaked out, defeated.

“Oh, just the usual.” She replied coyly. “If you want to take her life and fix her- And your mistakes, you have to… Well, take her life.” She flashed a wicked smile, her canines sparkling in the grey light, like a predator ready to strike.

I tried to think, to be reasonable… But I was too far gone. I…. I needed to pay somehow. I needed to fix it somehow. This… I had to. I…..

“Okay.” I said, and maybe because I was that tired, or maybe because I had finally lost it… I gave a broken, weary smile.

“Good.” Something twisted gleamed in her eyes, a knife in the dark- A shark in the water. “Come on. You don’t have time to waste.” She offered out her hand in a gesture of kindness- But just like everything about her, it was superficial and shallow.

But I took her hand, and nearly gasped at feeling human warmth for the first time- My body lit up like electric, tingling and flaring at just how comfortable and… Natural this felt, even if it was all strange- It was my hand, after all. The strangest reunion you could think of. 

I struggled to stand- Knees wobbling beneath me, the world spinning and churning in a chaotic maelstrom as she holds me steady. “I can’t imagine walking or standing is similar at all to what you did back there. Take your time.” There was just a glimmer. Just a hint… Of kindness? Sincerity? Was it just because I was her, her twisted narcissism shining through? No,  _ my  _ twisted narcissism. I had to remember that, remember that she was me… Just like I used to be. And I was…

I was doing what she wanted. I was going to kill someone! But…. But what other choice do I have? I’m at her mercy, my head and ribs already hurt like hell, and as much as I want to say I’m doing this for them, I…. I know at least part of this is that I don’t want to die. Even if I know I deserve it. 

No. Don’t think. Don’t hesitate- Don’t fear! Fear is the mindkiller, and… I can’t turn back now, right? I just…

I just want to see them again and not have them hate me. Even if it’s not actually them, even if I have to kill their Monika first! I…. 

Right. Fear is the mindkiller.

Walking is hard, as she practically drags me through the grass, my feet slipping out from under me. The way the world pulls on me, how my limbs awkwardly jostle about… It’s all just so wrong…. But so right! This is how things are meant to be.

I realize that this world is almost rejecting me- As I see those same artifacts I saw on her back in my reality, where entirely new laws and rules of existence clash with where I came from.

But I’m here, aren’t I? I’m real, I can feel the pounding in my head and the sweat and dew on my skin… Feel her calloused talons hand in hand with mine. Maybe it’s less that it’s rejecting me and more that it’s… Acclimating me. Accepting me.

It’s amazing, and wonderful- And terrible. Walking becomes a little easier as we go, and soon she gives me less and less support, till I’m standing- Shaking uneasily, tortured and unsteady- But still standing. Walking… On my own.

She lets me down at the back door, and I swallow down another mouthful of battery acid as I lean on a lawn chair to steady and steel myself.

Her face settles down to something pensive and reflective, staring over me like you might stare into a mirror- Eyes lingering over the place on my cheek where that scar of hers might be. And then… A flash of something. Maybe… Regret? Worry? It’s gone in a second, as she clenches her teeth together and glances over to the right so I can’t see her expression, before turning back with a hardened and featureless stare.

“The key is under the mat.” She glares directly into my eyes, with a mix of something between pity and hate. “And don’t forget…” she sneers, her lip trembling just a little bit. “You have a job to do: no regret, no apprehension. Fear is the mindkiller.” 

I nodded slowly, saving my words: my throat was already sandpaper chafing against itself, and with every swallow the knife of granite cut deeper. 

Then, in just a moment, she grabbed the back of my head and yanked me in hard for a kiss- I didn’t have the willpower, or energy to react at all.

There wasn’t much passion or love behind it. It was fast, loose, and dangerous- As she bit down hard on my lip, filling my mouth with a red burst of fire and iron. I pulled away instinctively at the same time as she shoved me away, as I stumbled back and tumbled to the grating, wet concrete.

I sat, sprawled with a mixture of shock and anger, and all she did was grin. “I always wanted to kiss myself.” And with that, she was gone.

I felt vulnerable, I felt… Exposed. I spat, doing my best to get that terrible taste out of my mouth- Like sulphur and brimstone, soot and ash.

Did her narcissism run that deep? Enough that she would kiss herself… I shivered, clutching my soaked and battered uniform tightly as I considered why she was even doing this. Was all of this just to fuck with me? Just to show she’s on top. But why… Just….

I shake my head, groaning as I shove myself up to my feet and almost fall again, clutching tightly onto a wall and limping over to the door.

Don’t think. Don’t hesitate. Just do it. I fetched my clammy hands under the mat and pulled out the key, sliding it into the lock and breathing a sigh of relief as I slipped inside, my soaked corpse of a body dripping slowly onto the tiled floor of her kitchen.

I gulped. I felt like a ghost: a demon. Seeing this place… It was so lived in, so loved: the slightly messy way things were arranged on counters and tables, the photos on the walls… I stared, long and hard- A gasp caught in my throat.

There she was. Another me, even more startlingly similar than who I had just met. And she was with her family… A family I never had. I didn’t know their faces, and god- I didn’t know how I could replace her when I did this. But I could almost feel it, almost see them being mine….

I bit my already swollen lip. Fear is the mindkiller. Keep moving forward. I tried to stay quiet, the gentle pitter patter, pitter patter of droplets seeping off my soaked clothing sounding in time with the distant ticking of a clock… Incessant. Slow. Building to a terrible, dreadful climax.  _ My  _ terrible climax.

I slipped up the stairs, tore my eyes off more family photos and little hints of her life before the worry, dread and… Slight pangs of jealousy, so unwanted, unwarranted jealousy, poison in my gut.

Till I creaked open the door to her room. Sleeping, so quietly… Peacefully. She must be tired from her day at school. Maybe she’s getting a little rest before going out with her friends later. Maybe….

I stepped forward, slowly. Inevitable, like the ticking of that clock, my body almost subconsciously trying to stop me as my feet shuffled against the carpet.

Till I was standing over her. I must look like the dead, raised: a zombie soaked to the bone, here to exact it’s revenge on those who still live. A drop of water fell off my sleeve and onto her face, and she shuffled in her sleep, ever so slightly… Ever so naturally.

Can’t hesitate. Can’t stop. Can’t resist. 

Fear is the mindkiller.

My hands moved on their own, and my mind and sight blurred as I carried out the deed. For hands that were trembling and cold, that I wasn’t familiar with… They worked quickly.

They were around her neck in a second, as my nails dug in as softly as I could manage them. The feeling of tender flesh around my fingers was both disturbing and invigorating, as I could feel the blood pumping against my fingers and her windpipe beginning to strain like a tree in a heavy breeze.

Her eyes snapped open, wide, scared, fearful… She was a deer in my ironsights, as she flailed about with an intense confusion and look of betrayal that can only come from this bizarre situation.

I struggled, not just physically as she shoved and punched me, her nails leaving light trails across my damp skin, but mentally as my conscience lit up, a lighthouse in this dreary Black Sea. But I had to keep going. I couldn’t stop.

Fear is the mindkiller.

I only grasped tighter, clenching my teeth harder and harder as a tear or two slipped from my eyes: her effort only became weaker, till I could see the light fading from her eyes….

And then, it was done.

I was numb, my mind reeling as it struggled to comprehend exactly what I had just done. I sat next to her, pulling her head into my lap, stroking her hair….

And I wept. Hard, harder than the rain was falling outside. I was a monster. A selfish, demented, tortured….

I had to bury those feelings. Bury my doubt. Bury my fear.

Bury her.

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t worry, the coming chapters won’t be nearly as dark as this one....
> 
> This fic was inspired by the “Monika becomes real” trope, but after reading the amazing fic “A pointless reality” I wanted to put my own spin on it. A much darker spin featuring a lot of heavy emotions.
> 
> Hope you enjoy


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